Thursday, August 18, 2005

A Couple of Bachelor Parties of note

One thing that women absolutely loathe but men cherish like a child awaiting Christmas, is the time honored tradition of the Bachelor Party. What better way for a man to welcome the married life than a shitload of booze, scantily clad or butt naked women, surrounded by about a dozen of his closest, most belligerent friends. Like a secret organizations, there are a few unwritten rules such as having a shitload of booze, the right "entertainment", having decent food, and never let the brides father or brother attend, they will snitch faster than Kobe in Colorado. Here are a few examples of bachelor parties that I have gone to.

Chris' Bachelor Party: Chris had just moved to Va from England, so I was like his only friend in the whole state, fuck it, the whole country. We hung out a lot, went to ball games, and I was cool with his fiancee and everything. So when Chris told me that he was getting married I just had to throw him a bachelor party, American style. I rented out a huge space, ordered enough liquor to make Courtney Love say "That's alot of booze", and rounded up some local strippers of note to make Chris' bachelor party a night to remember. Things started to go wrong when the strippers that I hired all of a sudden demanded more money. We had agreed on a price, I paid it, now they were going back on the deal and asking for more.(note to self, never pay the full price up front) I officially thought I was fucked as I was on the phone with a stripper that called herself "Destiny", trying to be the voice of reason. It looked bad until I remembered that my mother once told me that "when I get mad, I sound like a pimp".(How in the fuck does my mother know what a pimp sounds like?? Let me stop pondering that question immediately.) So, over the phone, I ranted and raved saying "You don't know who your fucking with!!" and "I know where you trollop's work at", true asshole shit that I thought wouldn't work. Apparently "Destiny" was accustomed to the fine art of "Pimpery" because she immediately said, "OK Daddy, we will be there, it's no problem." When I hung up the phone I said to myself, "Shit, I think I missed my calling!" The night of the party everything is running smoothly, all of Chris' co-workers were there, the booze was straight, food, everything looked fine. That was until the strippers came out. I guess Chris, a Caucasian male, forgot to tell his co-workers that he had a thing for black women, because when they came out looking like 100% ebony sex, you could have kicked a field goal in the mouths of the gentlemen in attendance.

During the night I noticed a few things. 1.Chris is drunk off his ass, slurring his words, and he keeps rapping Biz Markie's "The Vapors", which is hilarious in an English accent. 2:The strippers that I hired are bona fide freaks, inserting things in every orifice and providing all in attendance with a special "Lesbian show" and 3. Some of the women are taking guys in the back room and charging men for their "Services". I guess they need to pay tuition or something. I'm not going to lie, I glanced at my wallet, but decided against making any "Booty transactions" based on the fact that I enjoy peeing without that burning sensation. Then, I looked over, and Chris had placed 2 folded 100 dollar bills on his penis and yells, "What naughty girl wants to earn some money!!" Now I was in sensitive spot, because I would usually let a man do whatever he wants. But the fact that I knew his fiancee and knew that he wouldn't fuck a hooker if he was sober, I felt that need to intervene, so I tried to tell Chris to chill out. One of his co-workers grabs me and says, "Don't be such a cock-block!", so I shrug him off me and continue to try to talk some good sense into my European friend. His co-orker grabs me again and says, "Hey, didn't you hear me Lennox Lewis, leave the guy alone asshole!" I turned around and calmly asked the gentleman, "Let me tell you what I'm doing, walk outside with me!" We start to walk outside and as soon as he takes one step out of the door I start punching the shit out of him. Me and this dude fight for like ten minutes, I totally forget about saving Chris from himself inside the party. When I finally get back inside I learn that not only have the strippers stolen some wallets off some of the guys, they hijacked some of the liquor, but most of all Chris had paid for a "mouth hug" that one of his co-workers had recorded on his phone that takes video. The next day, his wedding day, Chris looks like death as I see him in a beautifully laid out church. His fiancee is giving me "I should beat your black ass" looks during the entire service. Later on, after the vows were exchanged and Chris had a spare minute, he sat beside me and asked "I wasn't that bad last night was I?" Then I said, "OK, you placed 200 bucks on your dick, I beat up a guy you work with, and you paid for a blow job that might be circulated on the net being that it was recorded. How's that?" All he could do is slump over and place his face in his hands and let out a big sigh. Then I laughed and said, "Yep, we had a kick ass time!!"

Derek's Bachelor Party: I feel bad about Derek's bachelor party because I was the main reason why it was ruined. His party was within the same time span that my father died and my girlfriend of 5 years had dumped me for a guy who was a bum, actually calling him a panhandler is probably too generous. Anyway, I wasn't in the best state of mine but I wanted to help Derek in any way possible when it came to his pre-marriage titty fest. I offered my services, my ability to get quality liquor for cheap, the ability to get fine women of ill repute without going bankrupt, the ability to rent out quality spaces for bargain prices.(Shit, I feel like a superhero, "Able to leap two titty bars with a single bound). But Derek's brother, who is a bona fide douche-bag by the way, brushed away my offer by saying, "I got this, I have been doing this for years!!" So his stupid ass was solely responsible for setting everything up. I actually wished him well as I envisioned scantily clad Beyonce-esque women climbing all on me, lying to me by saying shit like, "Wow, you sure are handsome! Do you model?" In the same vision, I place my index finger over her mouth and say, "Shhh, you ruin it by talking!!"(Even in my fantasies I am an asshole.) Anyway, I get to the party and I notice a few things that have gone wrong already. 1.The Father and the Brother of the bride are there.(Ladies, if I decide to marry one of you in the future, your raggedy ass daddy and brother aren't coming! I don't care how "cool" they are, at the end of the day those fuckers are worse than the feds.) 2:The spot that was rented was ghetto and dingy as shit. 3. There was hardly any alcohol there and 4: The food consisted of chips and other foods of the horseshit variety. OK, maybe most of the money was spent on the "entertainment", lets see how the girls look.

I was there an hour and still no women, within this time period I had already downed a flask of liquor that I had in my pocket, and some random beers that were available in a cooler that was there. Basically, I was drunk, and I was already talking shit. I told Derek's brother, "Look at this bullshit spread! "I got this" my ass!" He replied, "Just wait until you see the girls man!". As soon as he said that the girls walked in and, how can I say this, they were in desperate need of a sandwich. They were "Whitney Houston when she was at the height of her crack use" skinny. The guys were going crazy but I couldn't see why. Earlier, I had learned that these women were prostitutes acquired through a pimp, so I drunkenly yelled out, "Who's your pimp, Sally Struthers? hahaha.. Didn't I send you chicks 50 cent a month once!!" They were getting pissed, one of them said, "Don't let me come down there motherfucker or I'll.." "Or you'll what?", I said, "Stab my with your fucking elbows! hahaha" People there tired of me very quickly, but I felt pretty good that Derek was laughing his ass off and that's all that mattered. Later on the women started dancing on a makeshift stage with a pole that somebody had set up. For and hour guys would stand in front of the dancers and throw money at their feet, mostly 5's and 10's. I was outraged because the women, in my drunken opinion, looked like they only danced for heroin. So when I approached the stage, I pulled a sandwich out of my pocket and threw placed it in front of the dancing women, screaming "You need that more than you need money!!" That is when the stripper got "Gangsta" on me, hopped off stage onto my back, and started wailing on me as I tried to get her ass off of me. Even though I was getting punched by a stripper in the back of the head, I was so drunk I was laughing and said, "It's like I am having a fight with a bunch of brooms!!" They got her off me, and they asked me to leave. Looking back I was being an asshole, regardless of the hard time I was having at the time. I was such an asshole that I was dis-invited to the wedding, which is truly a tell tale sign of how bad I was that night.

I am still over here trying to figure out just exactly how you disrespect a stripper anyway...I mean, since when is offering up money for sexual favors somehow more tolerable than being mocked? You can't stick your ass in a man's face and demand respect at the same time...lol...tricks crack me up!

Good stippers are hard to come by. I hired just one for my friends 18th birthday. Not only did she look a hell of a lot better on the internet when i picked her, she demanded a shot as soon as she walked in, did about 20 whippets before she started dancing, then proceeded to "get gangsta" on the guests. Me, trying to contol the situation for once asked her to calm down and I was told "Fuck you bitch, I'll do whatever I choose." Okay,you DO NOT talk to me like that in my own home. I proceeded to charge her, get held back and pinned to the floor. Why my friends wouldn't let me fight is beyond me. This is all happening back when I was younger and living at home still. My mom, cool enough to let me throw a huge party and get a stipper, comes out and asks what's going on. The stipper proceeds to tell her he "daughter is a crazy bitch and you didn't raise her right." Yeah, my mom told her to get the fuck out. Next thing you know she's cursing my mom and swung on her! The insanity. Needless to say, the bitch left bloody.....

That is hilarious. Unlike most women, I actually don’t have any issues with Bachelor Parties. Maybe because I don’t have issues with strip clubs either. I just have 2 rules for the man I marry. 1. NO SEX! You can look all you want as long as you don’t touch. 2. Don’t have it the night before the wedding. If you are hung over during my wedding I’ll beat your ass.

All I'd really want for a bachelor party is to be able to watch a whole DVD without having to answer a bunch of silly questions. If any strippers show up it would be good to have someone like you there to help chase them away.

Ok, after you mentioned not wanting to pee with that burning sensation, I had to stop reading. Your stories have a tendancy to stay with me all day, so I'll come back and read the rest of this tonight, after dinner is digested, and I can laugh without my family thinking I've lost my mind.

What is so hard to believe about pulling a sandwich out of ones pocket? Out of all the stuff HC talks about you are "baffled" by that?? Jesus Christ! If the party offered sandwiches, and he had the epiphany to pull off the joke in question, where in the hell is the bewilderment in that?? Verdict: Believed!

Hey HC!!!! Excuse me while I address something in your comment section, I'm sure you won't mind right? M'kay good... I had to come back and comment after seeing all the "callin' folks out" business goin' on up in hea.....

Piggy backin' off of mona lisa's comment...

@Chele, If you're a faithful reader like you say than you would know that HC has told all kinds of off the wall stories about his "life experiences" and pullin' a sandwich out his pocket and throwin' it at the crackhead-skinny-non-ass-havin-stripper is right up his alley! I mean, why do you care whether it's true or pure HC fiction anyways??? Who the fuck cares! He's fucking hilarious and that's all that matters! And since we're all 'bout callin folks out... I'm thinkin' that your M.O. was to call HC out on purpose, to get his attention, and his comments. (based on the fact that you dedicated an entire post on your blog about how you called him out, and knew he would comment back to you)!!!!